The Inner Sanctum - Skull Island
Six days passed in the blink of an eye.
For Ernst, it felt like enduring an eternity in hell.
He had gained a profound, exhausting understanding of parenthood. Despite having a dedicated nanny, the newborn's ceaseless crying at the slightest disturbance left Ernst more drained than his battle with Wonder Woman.
He eagerly handed the boy over to his father, Sebastian Shaw.
Fleeing back to his private castle via displacement magic, Ernst embraced the silence. He ordered a hearty breakfast from his staff, ate in peace, and checked his watch.
It was 7:50 AM, British Standard Time. Perfect.
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The Devil's Cabin
Ernst strode into the serene expanse of the Cabin and snapped his fingers.
A pulse of conceptual magic swept through the pocket dimension. Across the globe, one hundred obsidian doors unlocked simultaneously.
The Devil's Cabin was officially open for its second cycle.
The chime of opening doors echoed continuously. Within minutes, representatives from over twenty different factions stepped into the dimension.
Most were ordinary underworld figures. But a few stood out.
There was a cadre shrouded in mysterious black robes, radiating faint magical fluctuations.
There was a highly disciplined trio led by a striking woman, Agent Peggy Carter.
And there was a heavily armed military extraction team.
Each group was met by a hovering spherical robot, which provided brief, automated instructions.
Among the crowd was Tina. She had returned, composed and prepared.
"Ms. Tina, please come with me," a robot announced in a gentle electronic voice. "The Master has instructed you to proceed directly to his chambers without waiting."
This sparked immediate outrage among the queued factions.
"Who is this woman? Why does she get special treatment?"
"I arrived first! This is supposed to be first-come, first-served!"
"Is the Devil just another womanizer favoring a pretty face?"
The spherical robot rotated, its optical sensor scanning the dissenters.
"Please maintain order," the machine droned. "Everything here is at the discretion of the Master. If you are dissatisfied, you may address your complaints to him directly. Now, please proceed to the lounge and await your summons."
A burly, heavily tattooed man sneered. He drew a high-caliber pistol and aimed it squarely at the robot.
He never got to speak.
The atmosphere plummeted as the twenty elite soldiers raised their weapons. Submachine guns and rocket launchers were leveled at the crowd.
The tattooed man looked at his pistol, then at the heavy artillery. He wisely lowered his weapon, opting for survival over pride.
Panic rippled through the ordinary criminals.
However, the black-robed wizards and Agent Carter's trio remained perfectly still, watching the drama unfold with clinical detachment.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Ernst's voice echoed through the robots. "Your weapons violate the laws of this space. Stand down, or face severe consequences."
The heavily armed squad leader refused to yield. He turned his rifle toward the robot.
"Warning," the robot chimed. "Hostile intent detected. Disarm immediately, or face retaliatory measures."
The soldiers opened fire.
A hail of bullets tore through the air. But as they approached the spherical drone, their kinetic energy bled away.
One meter out, they slowed. Ten centimeters away, they stopped entirely.
Dozens of bullets hung suspended in mid-air, caught in an invisible, localized stasis field.
The soldiers exchanged panicked glances and squeezed their triggers harder. Even a launched rocket froze harmlessly in the void.
"Warning ineffective. Retaliation initiated."
The robot's optical sensor shifted from a calm blue to a violent, glowing red.
Its polished sides slid open, deploying two specialized mechanical arms.
Before the elite forces could react, arcs of high-voltage electricity lashed out. The current chain through the squad in a blinding flash.
All twenty soldiers collapsed to the ground, twitching violently.
The bystanders broke into a cold sweat. An elite, heavily armed strike team had been neutralized in seconds by a single maintenance drone.
The tattooed man hastily threw his pistol onto the grass, silently thanking his luck.
Ernst dispatched twenty more robots. They emitted anti-gravity beams, levitating the paralyzed soldiers into the air and removing them from the lobby. Their fate would be decided later.
Order was instantly restored.
The Trading Chamber
Under the guidance of her drone, Tina entered Ernst's private chamber.
She bowed deeply. She expressed her profound gratitude, her children had fully recovered and were safely placed with a loving family, funded by the Devil's gold.
She acknowledged her end of the bargain. Her soul and body belonged entirely to Ernst.
Ernst waved dismissively. "Wait in the back quarters. Communicate any needs to the service drones."
Tina obeyed silently, vanishing into the private wing.
Ernst turned his attention to business.
His first scheduled customer was ushered in. He was a middle-aged man in a sharp suit, desperately trying to mask the panic in his eyes.
Normally, Ernst would play the eccentric host. But the line outside was long.
He effortlessly extended his telepathy, piercing the man's mental defenses. He wasn't a buyer; he was an outpost scout sent by a powerful boss to test the waters.
"Mr. White," Ernst said flatly. "Inform your boss that I do possess treasures capable of prolonging human life. If he is interested, he can bring satisfactory payment."
Ernst leaned forward. "Now, for wasting my time as a scout, the toll is two years of your vitality."
"Mr. Devil, wait!" White pleaded, scrambling backward.
"If you truly possess life-enhancing magic, you must show me proof! Let me return and negotiate a fair deal, "
"I don't need to prove anything," Ernst interrupted coldly.
He didn't wait for permission. He reached out and forcefully extracted two years of the man's life force.
White gasped, collapsing against the table. It felt as if he had just run a marathon without breathing. He was entirely drained.
"Do not play the victim," Ernst commanded, staring down at the exhausted scout.
"Since I can extract vitality, I can naturally restore it. Tell your boss that. If you return empty-handed again, the toll will not be a mere two years."
White scrambled to his feet, ignoring his crushing fatigue.
He turned and fled the cabin, vowing to never, ever return.
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